by Carian Cole
She climbs off the bed. “I’m going to go make us some tea. When I get back, let’s talk, okay? You’re just going to spit it all out.”
“All right. While you’re doing that, I’m going to use the bathroom and wash up a little.”
Thankfully, she doesn’t make any comments about me wanting to clean myself up, and ten minutes later, we’re back in my bedroom. Archie prances around the bed and puts his butt in our faces.
“Is it that guy who was at the bar that night? What was his name? Red? Blue?”
I grin at her as I sip some of the warm, sweet tea. “Blue. His real name is Evan.”
“I was surprised. He’s not the type of guy you usually go for. Don’t get me wrong, he’s wicked hot. I mean… those eyes and the hair and the tats. Holy shit.”
“Trust me. I know.”
“Where’d you two meet?”
“At the park by my office. I go there every day during my lunch break to read.”
“Oh. Does he work near there, too?”
“You could say that….”
“Is he a full-time musician?”
“Yes, in a way.”
Her eyebrows rise. “Why are you being so vague? Is he some kind of porn star? If he is, I’m down with that. They make a shit ton of money.”
“Ditra! He’s not a porn star. Jesus! He plays guitar in the park.”
“Like a concert?”
“Yeah, sort of like that.”
She frowns with confusion. “Every day?”
I finally give in. “He’s a street musician.”
She looks at me expectantly, waiting for more of an explanation, and when I don’t give it to her, I see the gradual realization cross her face.
“He plays in the park for money,” she says.
I nod.
“So people give him tips as they listen and walk by. He’s not getting a paycheck.”
“Right.”
“So he doesn’t quite have a real job.”
I shake my head and place my empty teacup on my nightstand. “No. Not really.”
“Are you giving him money?”
“God, no. Nothing like that.”
“He’s not living out of his car, is he?”
She must notice me wince, because her face and shoulders fall as she stares at me.
“Tell me he’s not, Piper,” she begs.
“He doesn’t even have a car,” I finally say. “He’s homeless.” There. I said it. Now she knows. “I know what you’re going to say. But I love him. I honestly, truly love him. He makes me happy and he makes me feel beautiful, and he’s smart and funny and so talented. I don’t care about where he does or doesn’t live. It doesn’t matter to me.”
For a moment, she looks as if she’s gone into shock. She’s just sitting there staring at me, unblinking, with her mouth partially open. Eventually, she shakes her head a little and runs her hand through her hair. “Fuck. I seriously don’t even know what to say.”
“Then don’t say anything. I don’t want you to.”
“Do you parents know?”
“Are you kidding? Of course not. You know how they are. They’d lock me down here and never let me back out.”
“True. It’s just… you’re so beautiful. You’re smart and sweet, and you have a good job. You don’t have to settle for someone like that—”
“Settle?” Anger rises in me. “I’m not settling. I want to be with him.”
“I’m not trying to make you mad. I’m just trying to understand. Cut me a little slack, okay? This wasn’t what I was expecting.”
“I don’t want to talk about this anymore. I’m tired.”
“You’re not getting rid of me. We’re talking about this whether you like it or not.”
“You’ll never understand.”
“Maybe not, but I’m trying to. Where exactly does he live?”
Letting out a deep, frustrated breath, I pull my knees up to my chest and wrap my arms round my legs. “When I first met him, he was sleeping under an old bridge in the park. He walks around and plays guitar during the day, and on some nights, he plays in bars for money, like the night we ran into him. But now he’s sleeping in a shed in the backyard of an old abandoned house. It’s on a dead-end street. No one is ever down there. It’s safe.”
“A shed? So where do you guys hang out? Where are you having sex? Are you paying for sleazy hotel rooms? You could get fleas, Piper. Or bedbugs. You have massive OCD and germ issues, and you’re fucking in cheap hotels?”
“No. We hang out in the shed. He has a sleeping bag. It’s not really dirty at all. He cleaned it.”
“You’re fucking in a shed?” she practically yells.
“Stop it!” I hiss. “First of all, we’re not fucking. We love each other. You’re making it sound dirty, and it’s not.”
“Well, it sounds sleazy. Can’t you at least bring him here?”
“No. My parents would be all over it and ask a thousand questions. Plus, he has a dog. I can’t bring a dog in here. Archie would be petrified.”
“Does the dog sleep in the shed, too?”
“Yes. He’s a really nice dog. He’s calm and well behaved, and he’s always clean. They both are.”
“Piper, I seriously don’t even know what to say at this point. This is way worse than what I was thinking.”
“Why? Why is it worse? He’s a nice guy. Isn’t that all that matters?”
“No, it isn’t! You’re only twenty-one! You should be going on dates and having sex in a real bed in some guy’s apartment. Not in a fucking shed on a dead-end street! I care about you, you idiot. And this is all sorts of fucked up. Even I wouldn’t do something like this, and I’m the crazy one here!”
“You’re not crazy. You’re just experimental.”
Leaning back against the pillows next to me, she covers her face with her hands. “You’re going to make me cry. See what you do? You see the good in everyone.”
“Why is that bad?”
“It’s not. It’s wonderful. It’s why you’re the best friend in the whole world, and it’s probably why this homeless Blue guy loves the shit out of you.” She leans on her side to study me. “He does love you, right?”
“I’m pretty sure he does.”
“I just don’t want you to be used. You’re not supporting him, right?”
“No. Not at all. Sometimes I pay for things, but he does, too. It bothers him when I try to pay.”
“Good. Let him pay if he can.”
“Don’t tell anyone about me and him, Dee. I’ll tell my family when I’m ready.”
“I won’t tell anyone, I promise. Who would believe me, anyway? Are you going to keep seeing him? Do you think this is serious?”
“Yes, I’m going to keep seeing him.” I pet Archie, who’s decided to plant himself between us. “I just don’t really know what the future holds, and that’s what scares me.”
“What do you mean?”
“He doesn’t stay anywhere very long. He goes from place to place and only stays a few months before he goes on to the next place he wants to see.”
“You don’t think he’ll stay here now that he’s involved with you?”
“I don’t know. I’ve hinted at wanting him to stay, but he gets really skittish and vague. I think he’s afraid of commitment. Not sexual commitment, but commitment to plans and future.”
“Like a job and a house and being an adult?”
“Exactly. He seems to just want to wander around and play guitar.”
“Oh my God. This has heartbreak and years of emotional trauma and therapy written all over it. Are you okay with that? Falling in love with him and then being dumped so he can trek around?”
“No… I’ll miss him like crazy if he leaves. I’ll be devastated.”
“Okay, so if he loves you, then why can’t he get a job? Then you guys can get an apartment and not be shacking up in a shed.” She lets out a laugh. “Shacked up in a shed!” she repeats, giggling.
&nbs
p; I glare at her and fight back the tears of frustration burning my eyes. “It’s not funny. I’m going to talk to him about an apartment and see if I can ease him into it. I almost have enough money saved up for a deposit and furniture, and I have a few thousand saved for emergencies. I need another month or two.”
“And what if he says no? What are you going to do then?”
“I don’t know. I can’t think that far ahead.” If I let my brain wander that far, I get bombarded with a thousand what-if scenarios that I just can’t handle right now.
“Well, you might have to. I guess he could stay with me for a while, until you guys get it all figured out. I have that empty room in my apartment that I’m using for a closet, but it will seem like the Ritz to him after sleeping in a shed. If you say he’s trustworthy, I don’t mind if he stays there so you have a safe place to hang out. You can move in, too, if you want. I don’t mind at all.”
“That’s really sweet, but I doubt he’d go for it. I could ask him, though.”
“I would definitely try to talk to him. I’m not too keen on a homeless stranger living in my apartment, but I don’t like this fucking in a shed business at all. You are way better than that. Actually, I don’t like any of this, to be honest, but I’m trying to deal with it because I can see how into this guy you are.”
“I love him, Dee. I think he’s my soul mate,” I say softly. “I just felt this… connection to him the moment I saw him. And I’m pretty sure he felt it, too.”
“I don’t really believe in that shit. I believe in chemistry and things in common and great sex.”
“That’s because you’ve never felt it.”
She shrugs. “Maybe. What I’m feeling is that you better stop blowing me off to hide. You can’t just immerse yourself in him and let him take over your life. I’m going to expect us to go back to our Wednesday night dinners. He’s not going to die without you for a night.” She pulls back the comforter and fluffs up one of the pillows she’s lying on. “Now, I don’t know about you, but I’m freakin’ exhausted. I’m sleeping here with you.”
I fall asleep wondering how Evan will react to the suggestion of living with me, either at Ditra’s or in an apartment of our own, and I dream of us living in a cute yellow house with white shutters and a white picket fence with Acorn sitting on the porch with his penguin.
Chapter Nine
I’m not at all prepared for this meeting today. Actually, it’s not really a meeting; it’s my annual performance review. Every year near the end of the fourth quarter, I have to endure this awkward analysis of my skills, progress, attitude, team player-ness, growth, and goal completion status. The hardest part is having to fill out the self-analysis section of the paperwork that has to be turned into my manager and human resources. Doesn’t everyone rave about themselves and their accomplishments in hopes of getting a raise? Nobody is going to fill out that form detailing how much they’ve sucked for the past twelve months.
I would have been honest and admitted my less-than-stellar performance, though. That is if I had remembered to fill out the form. I probably would have outlined my decline in performance over the past few weeks.
But instead, I’m hearing it from my boss.
“You’ve completed all your yearly goals, and up until recently, your performance has been excellent. I have noticed, however, that for the past few weeks, you seem very distracted. You’ve come back late from lunch many times, you’ve suddenly had several sick days in a very short time, and at times, I’ve caught you staring off into space. The quality of your work isn’t suffering, but I’m concerned nonetheless. If you’re going through something and need to change your hours, or need to arrange for time off, I am more than happy to discuss it with HR.”
“Oh no, that’s not necessary. I apologize for all of that. I promise to do better. I’ve just had some personal things going on lately, and I’m so sorry I’ve let it affect me.”
“I’m wondering if perhaps you’re bored? You’ve been in the same position for several years, and I feel you’ve outgrown it. I believe your potential isn’t being fully explored in your current position.”
I hope Ditra never has to sit through one of these meetings because the words performance and position would have her all giggly with innuendos.
“I wouldn’t say I’m bored.” I am, though, now that I think about it. Answering phones, doing data entry, and filing are not exactly exciting.
“In the beginning of the year, we’re going to have some marketing assistant positions opening up. I think you’d be great in that department, if you’re interested?”
My attention is instantly piqued. “Yes. I’m very interested in that.”
She pushes the self-assessment form across the conference room table to me. “Excellent. We’ll meet again at the end of January to discuss. In the meantime, I’d like you to fill out this form and submit it to me by the end of the week, just so I have it in your file. It’s required by HR.”
“I definitely will. Thank you for being so understanding. I’m looking forward to hearing about the new positions.”
She shuffles through my paperwork in her manila folder. “For now, you’ll be receiving a ten percent increase and a two thousand-dollar year-end bonus.”
Two thousand dollars!
“That’s very generous. I can’t thank you enough.”
Nodding, she takes her glasses off her face and perches them on her head. “There is one other thing I’d like to talk to you about, off the record, so to speak.”
“Okay….”
“I have a daughter your age, and you remind me a lot of her. You’ve worked for me since you were in high school. I’ve watched you grow into a beautiful, intelligent woman. Recently, I’ve heard through the grapevine here at the office that you’re involved with a man of… very limited means with an unfavorable lifestyle. I have to admit I’m concerned. It’s very easy to get sucked into a situation or an unhealthy relationship that’s not the best for us. I apologize if I’m overstepping. I just want you to be careful, and I hope it’s not the reason for your recent attendance and focus issues.”
I’m slightly taken aback. Not offended, because I know Olivia means well. I just don’t quite know how to respond. I’m not going to deny that I’m seeing Blue. And I’m furious because I know the “grapevine” is Melissa and her big-ass gossip-mongering mouth.
“I appreciate your concern, Olivia. And yes, I am seeing a guy who chooses to live differently than most of us, but he’s a very good, caring person. I’m not in any danger.”
“Very good. I’m not going to pry any further, but know that my door is always open if you need an ear.”
“Thank you.” I grab my form and walk back to my desk, then go to the ladies’ room to touch up my makeup and have a moment to gather my thoughts. And who do I run into in front of the sinks and mirrors? None other than Melissa. Without any thought or plan or self-control, I push her, and she stumbles back into the electric hand dryer.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” she demands.
“Keep your nose out of my personal life.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Save your lies. I know you told Olivia about who I’m dating.”
“If I have to cover for you every time you’re late because you’re adopting the local strays, then it is my business. And I’m worried about how sanitary you are. We don’t need you spreading crabs on the toilets.”
“Mind your own fucking business.”
She scoffs down at my four-foot-eleven, petite frame. “What are you going to do about it, Piper?”
I apply my lip gloss slowly and glance at her reflection in the mirror. “Oh, I don’t know,” I say casually. “But it would be a shame if something happened to your BMW out in the parking lot. Especially with degenerate homeless men milling around. I hear they like to key paint jobs, cut break lines, and slash tires just for fun. I’d be careful if I were you.”
She glares at
me, eyes burning with anger and hatred. “You’re a crazy bitch.”
I shrug carelessly and wash my hands as she practically runs out of the room, and I smile at myself in the mirror with satisfaction. I’m done with allowing her to bully me, and it feels good to finally fight back and give her a taste of her own medicine.
I’m trying not to shiver as I huddle in the corner, sitting on an old throw pillow. Acorn is curled up on my lap in a ball, and I stroke his soft ears and muzzle as I watch Blue write on notepaper and play verses on his guitar, then repeat the process over and over again. He’s in one of his moods today, but thankfully, he’s just chain-smoking this time and not drinking. I’ve been watching him for hours, being quietly supportive from over here in the corner. Hours ago, we drank hot cocoa that I brought with me from Dunkin’ Donuts, but it only warmed me up for a few minutes.
“Blue? I’m getting tired. I think I should go.”
He raises his head and looks at me with a blank expression, as if he had no idea I was still there.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
“Yes, I’m okay. I’m just tired. There’s so many words in my head, and they go up and down and all around, and I can’t rest until I’ve gotten them in order. Can’t you see that?”
Gently moving Acorn off my lap, I crawl over to Blue. “You don’t have to do it all tonight,” I say with a soft smile. “If you get some rest, your head will probably be clearer. Then you can sort the words and the notes better.”
His eyes dart back and forth between me and the scattered pieces of paper around him. “I don’t know….” He rakes a hand through his long, tangled hair. “I really should do it now.”
Carefully, I take his guitar from him and lay it off to the side. A flash of panic sparks in his eyes, and I lean in and kiss him, hoping to distract his mind.
“You really should do me now,” I whisper seductively, palming his cheek.
Sucking in a breath, he grabs the back of my neck and pulls me to him for a hungry, demanding kiss. His tongue sweeps over mine, and his breathing grows heavier as I stroke his cock through his jeans with my free hand.